Worst Kept Secret
by SkyBlue1309
Summary: Everyone knows that if you have a problem you take it to Scott McCall. One-shot but there will be another chapter follow up. Explanation at the end of the story.
1. Chapter 1

**I had so much fun writing this. It came from watching the season with the Dread Doctors (I forget exactly what season and episode) where the beast is attacking the school and all the students are hiding in the library when Scott comes in and shoos them all upstairs before saving the day and fighting the beast. It just left me wondering about what it would be like if all the students just like jointly agreed that we weren't going to talk about it. And this story was born... Hope you guys enjoy it!**

At first it was just whispers.

The students of Beacon Hills weren't blind. People noticed the way that the nobodies at school suddenly started hanging out with the popular kids. Everyone knew Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski in the way that everyone did in a small town like Beacon Hills. But no one knew them until the whispers started.

Some remembered that Scott had asthma but no one commented on it. They were happy to have another great player on the lacrosse team. No one really cared that he his asthma somehow miraculously cured itself—except for Scott himself. It probably made his life a lot easier.

Then the popular group wasn't quite popular anymore. They became a new type of popular. Lydia Martin didn't throw her parties anymore or date the most popular jock at school. The most popular jock himself didn't stay long after everything that went down that night that he supposedly died.

Like everything else weird that had been happening at Beacon Hills High School, Scott McCall's name was mentioned. It soon became the norm.

Everyone knew who Scott McCall was. Everyone knew who his friends were. Some were jealous when Lydia Martin suddenly started talking with them. Others were jealous with the close friendship it was clear all of them had. Some were confused with the dynamics of the group. They excluded others; peers that they had known for their entire lives without even realizing it, but included new people with ease at the drop of the hat for no rhyme or reason. From a couple of freshman that those who'd been paying attention knew had gained no special treatment from Scott McCall and his friends until one day they did to other nobodies at BHS suddenly becoming a part of their group.

No one was surprised when the new girl, Malia, became a part of their group. The second she walked into their halls it was clear that she was with them. If Scott and Stiles weren't walking side by side with her, or Lydia taking a seat next to her in their classes wasn't a give a way, everyone would have known it within a week. Malia was different (others would say weird) and like all things… different, Scott McCall was there.

Something weird happened and Scott McCall was there. It was the norm.

It wasn't too far off for the students to then start going to Scott McCall themselves when they saw something weird that they had no idea how to explain or how to take care of it.

* * *

Scott was standing at his bike when the kid approached him. He was a freshman named Johnny who'd always been shy around new people, but amongst his friends was known to have a killer sense of humor.

"Hey," Scott said when it became clear that the kid wasn't going to say anything without prompting despite clearly wanting to speak to him. "Can I help you?"

"Um, yeah actually. I think you can at least." Johnny looked away, fingering the straps of his backpack. He looked back at Scott who was still watching him with those all seeing brown eyes.

Johnny had seen Scott around school since the moment that he had started at Beacon Hills High. He'd seen him and a few of his other friends in the way that all freshman did. Eyeing the upper classmen, seeing who was cool and who wasn't. Who could possibly give trouble to him or his friends.

Scott had definitely not been the latter but Johnny hadn't quite been able to figure out where he was in the former. Scott and his friends weren't quite cool. They didn't sit in the center of the cafeteria and while Scott was captain of the lacrosse team, he didn't own it the way that other lacrosse players did.

Yet, there was something about Scott that Johnny hadn't been able to figure out until he started to hear the whispers. Everyone deferred to him and his friends in a way that none of them noticed. Not Scott and his friends. Not the other students at Beacon Hills High. Johnny didn't even realize it himself at first. But nothing else could explain the slight tilting of a head that was given when they walked by. Even from the upper classmen. Even from the teachers.

Everyone knew Scott McCall, but it wasn't until you _knew_ , that you knew why people knew him.

That didn't mean that Johnny didn't feel like he was barking up the wrong tree, or that he was most likely going to be called a giant idiot and loser and whatever other name Scott can think of and never have a chance again of having any social standing at Beacon Hills High.

Whispers were still whispers and they were kept that way for a reason.

Scott's eyes had lit up in curiosity at Johnny's reply, his lips tilted in a warm smile that welcomed Johnny to tell him whatever was on his mind.

Johnny gulped. "Um, so I know I'm new here and I haven't been here for a while—but people talk—" Scott's smile seemed to dim a little, a guardedness appearing. "—and they were saying—well not really saying—but they said that you were the person to go to if there was something…weird."

Scott's smile had disappeared but he wasn't laughing or telling Johnny he was an idiot and that was a step in the right direction. "Weird how?"

Johnny nodded his head frantically, hands tightening on his backpack straps. Scott was being cautious. That made sense, no one wanted to be known as the town crazy. Johnny felt stupid enough even talking to Scott. He understood the caution but wished that Scott hadn't. It had been hard enough even walking up to Scott's bike.

"Weird like different." Johnny looked around and took a step closer to Scott. The bell had rung about ten minutes ago and while there was still traffic in the parking lot from everyone trying to get out at the same time, there weren't as many students wandering around. Johnny still felt like everyone could hear every word that came out of his mouth. "Weird like things you can't explain. Please tell me I'm not totally crazy."

Scott considered him for a moment. Sighing, he placed his helmet onto his bike. "You're not crazy."

Johnny's body immediately relaxed. He'd been going crazy all night thinking about what he'd seen in the forest. He'd heard the whispers in the hall but hadn't thought much of it just like he was sure everyone else had. But seeing those little fairy like things in the forest and then getting chased by them. He had a cut on his calve from where one of them had grabbed him. He hadn't been sure he was going to make it out alive.

Those whispers made a lot more sense and he wondered how many people had seen things they couldn't explain. Knowing that he could go to someone was a relief he hadn't been expecting. Sure there was a chance he might be called crazy (he might actually _be_ crazy) but he needed to take the chance.

Johnny explained his story in hurried whispers. About how he'd been out jogging the night before in the forest and it had gotten dark a lot earlier than he'd expected when suddenly those creatures had popped out of nowhere.

Scott listened intently, brow furrowing further and further with each word that Johnny spoke, but nowhere in it did he call Johnny crazy or act confused about what he was talking about.

"So, do you know what it is?" Johnny asked breathlessly once he'd finished his story. "Will you be able to do something about it?"

The rest of the parking lot had emptied out besides a few cars, most notably being Stile's blue jeep, another well-known item in Beacon Hills High. Stiles Stilinski was Scott McCall's best friend and it wasn't ever too strange to see the group of them in the car racing off to somewhere unknown. Stiles Stilinski himself was standing in front of the jeep with Lydia Martin, both of them watching Johnny talking to Scott. He would have felt intimidated in another situation, but having them here felt reassuring knowing that they were going to help Scott like they always did.

At least according to the whispers.

Scott smiled reassuringly at Johnny, clamping a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. We'll take care of it." Scott took a step back and moved in the direction of Stiles' jeep. He paused, looking back at Johnny. "Do yourself a favor and don't go into the woods at night."

Johnny nodded his head up and down. "Okay, I will. Won't! Won't go into the woods. And thanks, I appreciate it. Also for not thinking I was crazy." Johnny looked around then, realizing that he was still at school but there were only a few stragglers left and no one paying attention to him anymore. Scott hadn't paused in the entire time that Johnny had been talking, only turning when he reached his friends. He gave Johnny a wave before facing his friends, all of them huddling together, mouths moving quickly.

Johnny nodded again to himself, glancing at his phone for the time. He cursed realizing that he had missed his bus and was now going to have to wait for his mom to pick him up in another hour when she got off work. He sighed to himself and moved back to the school. Might as well study in the library.

He heard a roar and looked up, pausing as the blue jeep rolled by, Stiles, Scott and Lydia all sitting in side of it, Scott's bike left abandoned. The sight made Johnny relax, knowing that what he saw was going to get taken care of.

And it was.

* * *

Soon it wasn't just Scott McCall.

* * *

"Hey, you're Scott's friend, right?" asked Kendra, staring at Stiles Stilinski. They were inside of the grocery store, one that Kendra had never been in herself until that night.

"Yes…?" Stiles turned to face Kendra, an amused expression on his face. "Normally I'm asked if I'm the Sherriff's son. Got to say, it's a bit weird to be known only as 'Scott's friend'."

"Stiles Stilinski, right?"

Stiles frowned, hand lowering from the cereal box that he'd been about to grab. He had a full cart in front of him and if rumors were correct, held the contents of Stiles and the Sherriff's weekly grocery run. "So you do know who I am."

"Everyone knows who you are."

"Normally I'd be flattered but I get the impression this isn't a social visit."

Kendra shook her head, eyes darting around. There was no one else in their aisle but she had no idea about the neighboring ones. "Can we go somewhere to talk?"

Stiles eyed his cart full of food. "I suppose this can't wait."

Kendra shook her head, feeling bad for a moment before remembering what she had seen happen to her boyfriend. "It really can't."

"Alright, let's go," Stiles said without even another second of contemplation, leaving his full shopping cart right where he had left it.

Kendra felt a bit bad for the worker that was going to have to put everything else away only for a moment. This was much more important. She twisted towards Stiles the moment they were inside his jeep, the story spilling out as he got it started and pulled out. She knew without even asking that he was taking them to Scott McCall. It was why she had found him.

Everyone knew that if you had something you couldn't explain you went to Scott McCall or one of his friends. She'd been on her way to see Scott himself, hoping that he was working tonight at the vets—another thing that was common knowledge amongst the student body of Beacon Hills High, something that no one even realized they all knew until the information became relevant—when she had seen Stiles' jeep in the grocery store.

Kendra explained how her and her boyfriend had been sneaking into the school after hours that night to make use of the pool when all of a sudden he had just gone missing. Kendra would have reported it to the police, her squeaky clean record be damned if it hadn't been the way that he disappeared. She hadn't just not been able to find him disappear. He had literally vanished in front of her face. The last thing Kendra seeing of her boyfriend was a look of horror.

She had spun around but not able to see anything. Lockers started swinging back and forth, howling started. She hadn't stuck around to wait, sprinting out of the school and to her car, grateful that she had been the one to drive that night. Getting on the road the only person she could think of to go to was Scott McCall.

Stiles stayed calm as she told her story and she knew that she had gone to the right person. They parked in front of a house and upon entering Kendra realized that it belonged to Scott McCall himself. She was even more grateful to have seen Stiles' car since the vet would have been a dead end.

A beautiful woman with dark, curly hair greeted them at the door, a look of knowing growing at the sight of Kendra and her less than put together appearance. She patted Stiles' arm and told them that Scott was upstairs before heading into the kitchen.

It wasn't until that moment that Kendra wondered what it must be like for the mother of Scott McCall. Everyone whispered but if anyone knew, it would be Melissa McCall. She was the one who had to worry every time that someone like Kendra came to her door that her son would come home alright.

Scott McCall's life was dangerous.

Everyone heard about what had happened to Allison Argent. Heard the story that had been told. A mugging gone wrong. Everyone talked. Nobody whispered. But everyone knew that she had been a part of the group that surrounded Scott McCall.

Kendra followed Stiles up the stairs, smiling minutely as Stiles kept cracking jokes. She appreciated the effort. It was already somber enough. She was glad that Scott McCall had someone like Stiles Stilinski as his friend. He needed someone like him or they probably wouldn't be able to ask Scott McCall for help for very long. Kendra was sure that everyone in Scott's group had a place like Stiles and she was glad they all had each other.

She wasn't surprised when Scott met them halfway up the stairs, having heard they were coming. He led them into his room, the move feeling practiced, despite the intimate location. He listened intently as she retold her story and promised that they would take care of it.

She didn't ask any questions. That wasn't how it was done. Everyone knew and everyone whispered but nobody talked. If something unexplainable went on you went to Scott McCall and he would take care of it. If you saw something slightly weird or something that just couldn't be explained about him or one of his friends, then it was brushed away.

Scott McCall saved their lives and everyone knew it but nobody said it.

The day the school had been attacked by something unexplainable everyone had reacted and hidden and dealt with the consequences but no one had talked about how Scott or Malia or Liam had pushed them out of the way with a strength that no one should be capable of. No one talked about their glowing eyes, one set red, one set blue and one set golden. No one talked about the claws or fantastic feats that they had done to save them all.

Everyone whispered.

And the next day everyone picked up the pieces and did their best to move on. No one talked about what they had seen and couldn't explain.

You went to Scott McCall when something weird went on. But you never talked about Scott McCall.

She got her boyfriend back a week later.

He wasn't really her boyfriend anymore. He had no memory of what had happened, in fact he had no memory at all. Physically he was fine. Mentally he was as well, no harm to his brain. He could still do math and would be in the same grade, he just had no recollection of any people that had been in his life or how he knew any of the things he did.

She was still grateful. He was safe and he was alive and he would relearn his life with her help and everyone else's. She knew that not everyone who asked Scott McCall for help had as much luck as she did. Not all of it ended with a happy reunion.

Sometimes you were Allison Argent or Scott McCall.

She was happy to be neither.

She hugged her boyfriend tight and wept, even though he didn't know who she was, he was still there.

* * *

Soon it wasn't just something weird.

* * *

"Are we in the right place?" Stiles turned to Scott.

Scott nodded. "I can hear him."

"No one else is there?"

"He's alone."

Stiles sent off a text and put his phone in his pocket. "Tessa made it to Melissa."

"Good. Let's do this."

With a final nod to Stiles, Scott disappeared around the back where he would meet up with Malia and Liam. Lydia was with Tessa right now having been the one to drive her to Beacon Hills where she would be spending the night at Scott McCall's house. Tomorrow she would go speak to her mother, but that was tomorrows worries.

Tessa was a couple of years older than Scott and Stiles. She had been a senior when the two of them were sophomores and everything was just getting started in Beacon Hills. She had heard the whispers just like everyone else but hadn't thought much of them. Hadn't cared to. People were only just learning the difference between Scott McCall and _Scott McCall_.

The whispers were faint but they were still heard.

Tessa had graduated from Beacon Hills High as just another one of the students. She had a good amount of friends and was never bullied. She'd had a boyfriend but had ended it after graduation, both of them ready to enjoy college single and see what it brought them. It had been mutual and respected and she always thought back on him fondly. She'd gotten decent grades and never been in trouble besides one time when she'd skipped class with friends just so they could say they had ditched class when they were in high school. Overall, she was normal and she had been content to live her life that way.

Then she had met her boyfriend, Ronald, in San Francisco where she was attending college. He was older and handsome and loved to spoil her rotten. It was too good to be true and it turned out to be just that.

It wasn't until she was visiting home with Ronald that she remembered Scott McCall. They were walking through Beacon Hills, her arm grasped tight in Ronald's hand, an action that he always did when they were out in public and the reason for the never ending bruise on her upper arms. They were the ones that hurt the least. Tessa had only been allowed this visit because her mother had been calling more and more frequently, knowing something was wrong, but not exactly what.

All Tessa wanted to do was call for help. She, like every other person in a situation like hers, had never thought that she would be 'that girl'. It was a lot different when she was in this situation and she couldn't get out no matter how hard she tried. Police were paid off or the court simply didn't believe her when she finally did talk to the right officer. It was a lot different when Ronald knew who to threaten and knew how to follow through.

She'd always known money made the world spin. She never knew how much until she was caught in its grasp.

Tessa had learned not to expect help.

Until she saw Scott McCall.

She hadn't thought about it at first. They'd walked by each other, another face that was vaguely familiar as most peoples were in this town. The difference was that Scott didn't just walk by the way everyone else it. His steps slowed, eyes flickering from hers, to Ronald's, down to his hand on her arm, that tightened even more at Scott's presence (he'd never been fond of other men even in Tessa's presence) and back to Tessa's face.

She hadn't thought of Scott McCall for years. Hadn't had a reason to.

Until then.

If you have a problem, take it to Scott McCall. She didn't remember the part about it being a _strange_ problem. She didn't need to.

"How did you get in here?" Asked the red faced man upon opening the door to see a gawky teenager. "This is a gated property."

"Yeah I think I got that from the gate I had to climb over."

"I'm calling security," the man said.

"Are you Ronald?" The man only glared at Stiles, phone brought to his ear. "Boyfriend to Tessa?"

That got his attention. Ronald snorted and lowered the phone, placing it in his pocket. Stiles smirked and pressed the button in his pocket. It gave a small clicking sound that was muffled in his jeans to human ears, but not to werewolves. Or werecoyotes.

"What the hell did that bitch say to you? You gonna be her knight in shining armor? Is that what you promised her? Let me tell you something, she's a pathetic lay and you'd be bet to cut your losses now. I should have years ago."

The lights went out in the house and on the property.

Ronald whirled. "What the hell?" He glared at Stiles. "What the hell did you do?"

"Nothing, man. I've been standing here the whole time."

Ronald cursed and stalked into the house, leaving the door wide open, uncaring about the kid at his back.

"What's it like?"

"What?" Ronald asked, as he tried some of the lights in the room. He knew security was already checking on it, but it would take some time to get to him. He liked privacy in his own homes.

"Beating someone weaker than you."

It wasn't the words that made Ronald pause, but the tone. It was much too reassured for his liking.

He'd expected bravado. It wouldn't be the first time that Ronald had heard it. Men all over the world liked to think they stood in bigger boots than they actually did and he had thought this boy would be just another one. He had been ready to hear it out just for some amusement before that bitch, Tessa, showed her face again. Boys like the one in front of him always wanted to save the girl, not understanding that she didn't want to be saved in the first place. Ronald was going to let him have his say before sending him on his way. He'd give him a few punches if he needed to and make sure security got him on the way out. The kid would be done in the world before he'd even started.

He turned. The kid didn't sound like someone who didn't know what he was doing. He sounded practiced. If he hadn't said words like this before, he'd said words similar. Ronald had learned long ago to never judge an opponent by their age but by the way they talked. And the one in front of him oozed confidence in a way that even the boy's body didn't match.

The kid had been fingering one of Ronald's Buddha's that he'd acquired from an auction in Southeast Asia ten years ago after signing his first deal there. He looked up and retracted his hand when he realized that he had Ronald's attention. His eyes moved behind Ronald for a moment before sliding back. He smirked. "Do you really think you're the scariest monster in the world?"

Ronald frowned, in the middle of forming a reply when he was whipped around, a snarling man like figure towering over him. The monsters face was distorted, eyes burning red and teeth sharp and elongated. Claws dug into Ronald. He whimpered, feeling them pierce and blood begin to trickle down his arms, Ronald's heart beating a hundred miles an hour as he stared at the thing holding him hostage.

"Did you really think you were the scariest monster in the world," the kid asked again, head appearing at Ronald's side, uncaring of the snarling monster holding Ronald hostage. Ronald's eyes darted frantically between the two of them. In fact he had an easy going smile on his face. "Well?"

"No! No! I don't know! What—what is he?" He didn't struggle much, each movement only causing more pain, but he still couldn't force himself entirely still, his body reacting without his permission to get away from the creature in front of him. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye, making out two other people shaped shadows, one male and the other female. Both with glowing eyes—one yellow and the other an ice blue. Ronald's heart thundered even faster, beating a painful rhythm. "What—what are you?"

"We're your worst nightmares." The kid who no longer looked like a kid said. His eyes almost looked black, dark shadows hanging under his eyes and an all too knowing smirk lined his lips like he knew exactly what Ronald was thinking. "Now, here's what's going to happen. Tessa is gone. You will never see or contact her again. You see her walking down the street you turn around and go the other way. You harm a hair on her head, or anyone else's for that matter, we will hunt you down and eat you."

A snarl sounded from the shadows. Ronald whimpered.

"Pay attention." The kid flicked him on the head. "You might think you have the upper hand in this world but you're only just now learning that you've only been playing in half of it. You might have gotten away from this with the police but you won't get away with it from us. You disappear from Tessa's life and we leave you in peace. You don't harm another hair on anyone else's head and we leave you in peace. Do you understand?"

Ronald nodded his head, grimacing when the claws sunk in even further. "Yes, yes. I understand! Please let me go. I won't ever talk to her again! _Please_."

Claws tightened at the same time as the kid growled, " _Anyone_."

"Anyone! Yes, yes, anyone. I swear!"

The kid scowled. "Pathetic." He nodded at the red eyed monster who released him, one claw at a time, seeming to relish in each one of Ronald's moan of pains.

Ronald collapsed onto the ground. The kid kneeled down in front of him as the monster took a step back. "Please! I said that I'd stop."

"Coward. Men like you are pathetic. You can't even be called men." He stood. "Follow your word or this won't be the last time that you see us."

Ronald nodded, eyes darting back and forth between the kid who'd looked so unsuspecting at first and the other three monsters. He could see more of them now. Only their eyes showed the monsters that they really were, the rest of their faces now looking human except for the eyes. They were much younger than he had expected but he shouldn't have been surprised from the age of the one who'd been doing all of the talking. The red and yellow eyed one were talking quietly to each other but Ronald knew that if he so much as twitched the wrong way they would be on him.

The blue eyed one was staring at him silently, a dark smirk on her face. The rest of them had only looked mad and disgusted when looking at him. This girls face held the same. Except she had one more emotion in the twist of her lips. Hunger.

Ronald gulped.

The kid moved, the rest of them moving behind him, clearly taking their ques from him.

"Are you one of them?" Ronald couldn't stop himself from asking.

The kid didn't stop moving, "I'm something worse."

They left, as quickly as they had come, each one trailing out until the last one stood, staring down at Ronald. It was the first one. The one with red eyes who had grabbed and held Ronald only now his eyes weren't red. They were brown, his face returning to a human expression that might have been meant to be reassuring but only scared Ronald more because he knew what this one was telling him. He was telling him how normal he looked. How normal all of him and his monster friends looked.

Ronald would spend every moment of the rest of his life jumping at shadows and flinching at people that he never would have before. He would never know who was truly a monster and with that fear he would assume everyone was.

The monster (man) turned on his heels and left.

It wasn't until he left that Ronald realized he had seen him before. With Tessa herself, in the small fuck town that she'd been raised in. A part of him sneered at the fact that she would be from the same town as such monsters while the rest of him knew the truth. If monsters like him were even in a small town like Beacon Hills, that meant he'd better watch his steps in a city like San Francisco.

"You were laying it on a little thick there Stiles."

Stiles laughed and threw an arm around Scott's shoulders. "When am I ever again having to have such a golden opportunity."

Malia snorted from next to them.

"Hopefully never," Liam muttered.

"Hey, I resent that! My acting was phenomenal. I mean you guys are scary, but nothing reinforces a good we're gonna hunt you down and eat you moment like a good evil monologue."

"Whatever you say Stiles," Scott said, "whatever you say."

* * *

Soon it wasn't just the student body.

Teachers.

Neighbors.

Police.

Everyone.

* * *

When you have a problem you take it to Scott McCall.

 **This is a one shot by itself but I do have a companion piece that is also a one shot, but still a companion. I've started it but don't know exactly when I'll finish, I have other projects I'm working on and it's not a priority. I was really debating with how I wanted to upload this and want you to know to expect something else so follow this story if you're interested in the next chapter. This is a one shot, but sort of a two shot so only expect two chapters total. But that's the reason why I haven't put it as complete even though this one-shot part was. But again, next part is just a fun companion.**

 **Also, follow me on Twitter and Instagram! I'm under the username rebeccaegan007 for both.**


	2. Chapter 2

**This became much more introspective than I had originally intended but I really hope you guys like this chapter. Will be the last one, and probably my last TW fic. Never meant to write one but this idea came to me and I always have wanted to write a one shot like this and feel like I've accomplished it. I am an aspiring author, so if you want to follow me in the real world too, my info's down below.**

 **Ugh. Just saw how some of my formatting won't keep. That's annoying. Too annoyed to fix it right now, but might eventually come back in and polish it up. It's not the end of the world. If you're curious you can find this story also over on AO3 under the same name and author name. It was just some paragraph breaks that didn't come through.**

Theo wasn't an idiot. He heard the whispers like anyone else in the small town of Beacon Hills as soon as he got there. Scott and the rest of his pack all thought they were being subtle about the secret they kept, but really the entire town knew, they were just too loyal to tell anyone.

Or so Theo had learned.

He had first thought that the town only used Scott. They knew that they needed him because things were weird in Beacon Hills—just like Scott McCall was. And while they were too scared and weak to do anything themselves, they knew that Scott would. Every one of them went running to Scott the moment that something scary happened.

They knew that if they snitched on Scott McCall and his friends they would have no one to run to anymore. It wasn't loyalty. It was simply logic. The town needed their warrior to keep them safe.

Theo's first impression of the town was negative. The second more positive. But what stayed the same was the same feeling of jealousy that Theo got when he thought of Beacon Hills because Scott was needed in a way that Theo never would be.

No one looked at Theo and worried if he didn't show up one day. He was a means to an end despite how desperately he tried not to be. First to the Dread Doctors. Then to Scott and Liam themselves, who only needed him for information on Stiles and what he knew about his creators. Even after he helped them because he wanted to and not because he had to he wasn't under any delusions of his position in Scott's pack.

He remembered the first time he had seen someone come to Scott for help. Back when he had first been a part of Scott's pack. Before the truth had been revealed. They hadn't even come to Scott, but Malia, one of the prickliest members of Scott's pack and one Theo would have avoided if he hadn't known any of them himself. He'd been confused when Scott immediately sent Stiles and Malia to help despite the overlying threat of the Dread Doctors. Theo had heard the rumors already and known they were true, but he hadn't realized that meant—that Scott would be helping all the time, no matter what situation they were in at the moment. As Stiles had explained with a laugh before he left with Malia, there was always something happening in Beacon Hills.

Theo had pushed the encounter and feelings of jealousy from his mind and promised to himself that he would do even better when Scott McCall was no longer in the picture. He just needed his pack first. After all, what was an alpha without his pack?

Theo hadn't been able to contain the self-satisfied pleasure the first time that someone came up to him asking for help. It meant that no matter what the rest of the pack felt, the rest of the town saw it. They saw his presence with Scott and his friends and assumed he was one of them. They grouped him together, and like they needed Scott and his pack, they needed Theo.

It was good to be needed and it was a feeling that he thrived on each and every time someone came to him for help and he was able to do just that.

The unexpected side effect was with how each time he helped, Scott and the pack trusted him more and more. He should have realized it sooner that the way into Scott's pack wasn't through the pack itself—but through the town that they had all became a pack for.

Outside forces were always attacking Beacon Hills more often than not. Individuals or groups going after the True Alpha and his young pack, who gained a more and more formidable reputation with each win. They challenged the pack and worried the pack. Each challenge questioned their loyalties and brought them all closer together knowing that they had each other.

But nothing cemented the pack like the town. Each win in the town was a success. But each win _for_ the town—for the people that asked for help—was a victory.

Theo had been stupid to ever think it was another way.

* * *

Derek frowned as he ducked into an alleyway. Someone had been following him for the past few blocks and weren't doing a very good job at it. The only reason that he'd let them go this long was because the wind was blowing towards him and he'd been able to identify right away that the person was human and scared. Hunters were never scared and anyone else following him wouldn't be human.

At least he had thought.

Derek jumped out and pulled the purple hooded figure into the alleyway with him, making sure to shove her further in but still keeping plenty of distance. He was blocking her exit but making sure that she wasn't overly intimidated. His actions were proof enough that she had better tread carefully but something about her told him that he needn't be worried for himself.

The girls hood had fallen when Derek had shoved her revealing a head of bleached curls that might look trashy on someone else but looked beautiful and edgy on her. She looked up at him with wide, terrified eyes. "Sorry!"

Derek frowned again, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why don't you not apologize and tell me why you were following me."

The girl took a step back, taking a moment to eye up the alleyway, clearly noticing that her only way out was threw Derek. "You're from Beacon Hills right?" the girl finally said.

Derek raised a brow. Those were the last words he expected coming out of her mouth. He had left Beacon Hills a little over a year ago though he'd been back a few times when Scott had needed his help, which seemed to be more often than not. He felt bad sometimes about leaving the younger man to himself but the True Alpha was doing incredibly well for himself. Living up to his name.

"I recognized you," the girl continued, Derek's silence enough for the girl to draw the conclusion that she was correct. "Derek Hale, right?"

"We don't get many transplants over on this side of the coast," Derek replied. It was true enough. Beacon Hills was small and while most people wanted to get out to a big city, they normally stayed on the same side of the country. Even if they did end up in the Big Apple, chances of anyone running into each other was slim.

Until this girl.

The scent of relief grew strong on the girl, only slightly dampening the ever present stench of fear.

"How can I help you?" Derek found himself asking. He had a feeling of what this was going to be about and wasn't sure if he was dreading her reply or proud of what he had left back home.

"I" —the girl wrung her hands together— "is it true what they say? That if you have a problem that you take it to Scott McCall?"

"It is," Derek replied, choosing not to analyze the emotion that swam through his veins, "though I'm not Scott McCall."

"But you can help like he can, right?" She took a step forward, eyes burning with anticipation and dread. "That's what everyone said back home and I don't know what to do! Didn't. And then I saw you walking down the street and I know that we're not in Beacon Hills anymore but I don't know what's happening and I think that maybe you'll be able to help."

"What's the problem?" He might not be in Beacon Hills and he might not be a local member of Scott's pack, but he was still pack and he would uphold the unwritten rule.

"It's not me, it's my friend," the girl began, visible relief clear on her face. "We were at a party the night before, just a small thing where everyone knew everyone but then—"

Derek nodded his head as he listened to the story, already mapping out the steps he would take and analyzing how involved he would need to be.

Derek had always had a pack, that much was true. But even his family was nothing like the pack the Scott had created. He would miss his family every single day, that much was true. Would hate the fact that they were gone and he had to live on without them, a member of a pack full of stragglers. Full of all different types of supernatural creatures and full of emotions the way that the young could be. But a pack stronger than Derek ever could have expected. A pack that he was proud to be part of.

Scott McCall was a better man than Derek would ever be. He hadn't known that right away. He had met the boy and been unimpressed. A kid who didn't appreciate what he got. He thought that Scott was spoiled and wasteful. The only thing Scott had wanted back then was to get rid of the burden of being a wolf. Something that Derek had never understood, even after everything that had happened to him.

Scott was the one that had taught him that being a werewolf was a gift, but it was also a burden and one that he needed to carry ever so carefully. He had watched as the scared boy had evolved into a capable young man who had the weight of the world on his shoulders, but knew that he didn't have to carry it alone.

Derek was sorry that he couldn't be there every day to help hold that burden. He knew it was selfish of him. But he would help in any way that he could. When Scott called he would come. When someone needed help he would help. And on the rare occasions that Derek needed help himself, he would ask.

After all, if you had a problem, you took it to Scott McCall.

* * *

Isaac had been angry at Scott for the longest time despite knowing that everything that had happened wasn't Scott's fault. He hadn't asked for it. In fact, Scott was probably the most innocent one of all of them. All of Isaac's first pack mates had chosen where they were except for Scott. Isaac had chosen to be bitten while Scott was forced—a single night of rebelliousness changing his entire life.

That hadn't stopped the anger. It wasn't until the requests started that the fury began to dim—and then fade all together.

The first one had been a girl studying abroad in France. She wasn't staying in Paris, but another city a few hours over, who had traveled all the way to Paris just to see Isaac. She hadn't even been from Beacon Hills herself but a neighboring town, yet they had still heard the whispers.

It was when she first showed up with her request and explanation that the flames of Isaac's anger finally started to wane.

The next one hadn't even been human, but another wolf who had heard of the True Alpha from Beacon Hills. It was one of the first things that people asked Isaac when they found out where he was from. It was part of the reason he didn't tell anyone what specific city he was from in California.

Didn't.

Until he did.

Soon he was helping people he didn't even really know, all because of a pack that he hadn't claimed to be part of in a while. He might have mistakenly chosen his first pack. A nightmare of circumstances that had led to it in the first place. But his second pack—Scott's pack—that had been all choice and he had never regretted it.

Forgotten that fact, yes, but never regretted. He was a part of Scott McCall's pack and always would be, no matter how many miles were between them. Scott had looked out for Isaac when he wasn't even asking, and had made sure to always make him feel welcome.

Scott looked after the little guys, after the ones beaten down and always made sure that they could get back up.

There was a reason that Scott McCall became the True Alpha.

Not everyone had seen it at first—but they had learned.

* * *

Scott McCall would always be a boy in Chris' eyes. He could never see him any other way. When he saw Scott McCall he saw the kid who had showed up on his doorstep with glee in his eyes because he had won to heart of Chris' daughter. When he saw Scott McCall he thought of how Scott would grow old in a way that his daughter would never be able to.

When he saw Scott McCall he was almost grateful for it.

Every day of his life Chris would mourn the passing of his daughter just as he did his wife, and even his father and sister. Allison had been so young and full of life, only to have it stolen from her because of the world that they lived in.

It was not that knowledge that filled him with guilt. Not because he introduced Allison to the world of the supernatural. That was inevitable whether he liked it or not. The supernatural were a part of the world that everyone was living in and he couldn't change that fact. Chris had always been a believer that it was better to know what one was facing than to be oblivious to it. He was grateful that Allison knew what had killed her. He'd rather her die with that knowledge than in any other way.

The guilt that stayed with Chris was the thought that maybe, just maybe, Allison was better off. Scott McCall would still grow and age and be a part of the world. Would still live and fight in the world. For the rest of his life—whether that be short or long.

Chris was a hunter. It was what he had been born to do. Protect those that could not protect themselves.

As much as it was a gift it was also a burden. Chris had the ability to protect in a way that many others didn't, but he also knew what it was like to lose just as deeply. He remembered losing his first comrade. The pain. The sorrow. The guilt.

It hadn't been his first and it wouldn't be his last. Each time was easier and that fact made it harder. Was Chris not the worst monster of them all that he could get used to losing people? People he loved and cared about? Chris was never incapable of emotions; they had always come easily to him. The ability to love and cherish, to feel fear and anger. But with that came the knowledge of just how easy it was to lose. And each time he lost, it became just a little bit easier. He always felt it, he wasn't that broken, but he knew how to handle it. It was his job after all.

Allison would have been fine. Allison would have flourished and thrived in the world. Chris always knew that. But there was that ever present guilty little side of him that was grateful she didn't have to.

Every day he missed his daughter, but every day he ached at the deeply buried part of him, the part that had never wanted children in the first place, that was grateful Allison was at peace before she knew too much pain.

Scott McCall would grow old and die alongside his friends and pack members. He would feel more emotions in a single week than most people would in their entire life. That was the life meant for Scot McCall. He did not envy him. He helped him when he could. Stood by him as he made his decisions and saved countless more lives. As Scott gained even more respect from the people following him and the people he saved and helped.

Yet all Chris would see was the little boy who had stood next to his daughter, as untainted as the rest of the world and wonder what had become of him.

* * *

"I can't help you," Aiden said, "but I know someone who can."

* * *

Malia never liked helping people. She was a daughter of the forest, maybe not born there, but allowed to run within it wild and free for half of her life. She had never wanted to be anything more than a coyote—until she was. She had hated it at first. Ached for the dirt between her paws and fresh blood of a kill on her tongue. Slowly, slowly, she had learned that maybe the forest wasn't everything. That there were good things outside of it too. There was Stiles. Scott. Lydia. An entire pack that kept her safe and she kept safe in return.

They weren't normal. They never would be. They were a pack full of random matches of people from a lightning kitsune, a banshee, a few bitten werewolves, even born ones, a human, and whatever else fit into their odd little group. That, she had liked more than she realized. She was a werecoyote, something that most people hadn't even heard of. She didn't fit in anywhere, except that she did because when it came to Pack, no one fit and that meant that they all did.

Malia didn't like helping people but she would. At first it was because it was expected of her. She'd help though she never really understood _why_. Then it was because everyone else did. She was a part of Scott's pack and that's what Scott's pack did, so she did too.

Then… Then it wasn't that Malia liked helping people. Her first reaction would always be to help herself and the people—her pack—she was closest to first, and then help others. She didn't think her reactions were wrong. Pack came first and she would never feel guilty for putting them above everyone else.

That didn't mean that she didn't see the reason to help. When someone gave her a smile in the hallway because of what she'd done, an emotion went through her unlike any else that she had felt before. It was more than just simple pride—something more—something that let her know she had helped someone and expected nothing in return. She had helped because she could and it was the right thing to do.

So Malia would never _like_ helping people—but she always would. It was what her pack did and therefore what she did. She never would have started on her own, that's not how coyotes worked. But she would always be grateful for the knowledge she had gained by helping.

* * *

Lydia was the popular girl. Or at least she was. Now she was something else, but couldn't find it in herself to be mad about it. She was something else in so many ways, not just her simple biology. Being a Banshee was not the fairy tale creature that little girls fantasized being about at night, not that Lydia had ever been that type of girl.

Lydia was a woman of logic. She liked things to make sense. High school had always made sense. She understood the hierarchy and knew exactly how to play it to be in the position that she wanted, which was of course, the top.

Then things had started to get weird. A body had been found in the woods. Scott showed up at lacrosse tryouts seemingly without any asthma that had kept him glued to the bench the previous year. The mysterious Derek Hale showed up out of the blue from wherever he'd gone after all of his family had died in a fire back when they were pre-teens. Then things started getting weird with Jackson and her.

Especially her.

Soon logic was the last thing dictating Lydia's life and she had to learn a whole new way of living while trying desperately to fit her old with her new. She realized quickly that there was no reason to try. She was different and it was about time she learned what she was and who she was.

Lydia had always been popular. Had always had the towns attention. What she hadn't had, hadn't even realized that she was missing, was the towns loyalty.

Her reputation had gone to shit along with the rest of the towns. What had once been known as a peaceful, small town now had one of the largest murder and disappearance rate of all towns with similar populations. They even beat cities. Didn't leave for a good tourism industry, not that Beacon Hills had ever been thriving.

Reputation was the last things on Lydia's mind as she rushed around to save her friends one after the other, none of them—herself included—ever capable of staying safe for long. It was simply the way their new world worked and something they all adjusted to pretty quickly.

It was disturbing sometimes to think about how quickly they had adjusted to constantly fighting for their lives. The TV and movies liked to make it seem normal. It wasn't. It never would be. Lydia and her friends were supposed to be worrying about midterms and school dances, not whether or not the latest fairy tale they heard was fact or fiction or some horrible combination of the two.

Lydia wanted her life to go back to normal but at the same time she could never actually wish it. She loved who she had become. She loved her group of friends. She loved her town. She loved the loyalty they felt not just for each other, but the town that they had grown up in or learned to call home.

Lydia helped because she knew what it was like to be on the other side. She knew how confusing and desperate one could get when they had no idea what was going on around them or to them. Scott McCall wasn't Scott McCall when everything with her was happening. She would never be angry towards him about that. He was just as lost and confused as her.

If she could be, even a little bit, for someone else what she had needed originally, what Scott had needed originally, then she was happy. She would never willfully put someone through what she or any of her friends had gone through.

That was her own promise to the town.

* * *

All Stiles had ever wanted was friends. He was the kid with ADHD who talked too much and had no idea what personal space was. Scott was his first friend. First real friend. The friend who taught Stiles what it meant to be a friend and to have a friend in return.

It was the reason Stiles had almost hunted down the Alpha wolf and demanded to be bit as well once he found out what had happened to his friend. Not because he wanted it, but because it was his brother and anything that Scott went through, Stiles was going to go through too. What had stopped him wasn't his desire to or not to be a werewolf, but the simple fact that Scott needed him the way he was. Scott needed at least a little bit of normal, a little bit of human, in his life when everything else was going crazy and Stiles could be that for him.

Stiles helped because he would have anyways. He goes along because he would have anyways. That's the thing between him and Scott. They were brothers. If one was going to get into trouble than the other one would too. Scott might not have wanted to come out that fateful night, but he would have anyways, even if Stiles hadn't said anything. It was the way they were. It was the reason that Stiles was always going to be following Scott into whatever trouble he'd gotten himself into.

That's the way they were.

* * *

Scott was never meant to be special.

It was something that he reminded himself late at night when he was laying there in bed. It wasn't often, but when he did, it was on the normal nights. On the nights when he'd just gotten back from helping Liam with his homework, or practicing lacrosse with Stiles. It was on the nights when he'd had dinner with Kira and her parents or stayed in doing his homework.

Scott was meant to be normal.

It was something that he'd known about himself for most of his life. He wanted to go to school and get good grades. Not great grades, but good ones. He wanted a girlfriend who he loved and would eventually marry and to be surrounded by the people he loved. He never needed it to be a big group, he knew better than most how sometimes small was all you needed.

It was just him, his mom and dad. Then it was just him and his mom. A family of two, just like his best friend, though they had become that way through very different circumstances. Simple was what Scott's life was. Normal. That's all it was ever supposed to be.

Until it wasn't.

Sometimes he stayed up late at night thinking about all the people out there in the world who could be hurt. About who could be dying at that very moment as Scott laid peacefully in his bed. Terrified that he wasn't doing enough. Terrified that he was doing too much.

He watched his mother help people all the time. She was a nurse, that's what she did. Except that she didn't stop helping people there. She did absolutely everything she could, just like she did everything she could for Scott. He would never doubt his mother's love for him.

He learned even more how far she was willing to go to help after he became a werewolf. After she found out he was a werewolf. It had been a terrifying moment in his life, but was the best thing that could have happened. It brought them closer in a way that they had never been. He was able to see his mom who was willing to do anything, even when it meant that it wasn't quite legal, to help. She helped and she protected.

Therefore, it was no surprise that Scott emulated this in every aspect of his life.

She was the one who taught him to help. She was the one that showed him how much it hurt when that help wasn't enough. That sometimes the good people lost, even though it was the absolute last thing they deserved, but that's just the way that the world worked. That losing someone, even a stranger, hurt just as much because they died under your hands. Your hands that couldn't do enough.

So yeah, he was terrified, but he would help. Just like his mother.

Scott was never meant to be special, but he was. And just like his mother he would do everything within his power to help those that needed it.

He would protect the town like his mother protected him.

Protect his pack like she protected him.

And his pack would protect him like he protected his mother.

If that meant letting a small rumor float around the town, then so be it. It was after all, just a rumor, no one could prove anything.

* * *

"Will you help me?"

* * *

"Please tell me I'm not crazy."

* * *

"Yeah, of course."

* * *

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